


Where Has Your Highland Laddie Gone?

by Lucky107



Series: A Red, Red Rose [3]
Category: Hell on Wheels (TV)
Genre: 19th Century, F/M, Gen, Minor Spoilers, One-Sided Attraction, Public Humiliation, Tarring and Feathering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 03:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8782027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucky107/pseuds/Lucky107
Summary: It paints the perfect backdrop for a dance.[Season 1]





	

**Author's Note:**

> The Bluebells of Scotland - The Corries - 1976

The humid July air is thick with dust long after the final spike in the forty-mile race has been driven.

In the fading sun the shambles of what is to become the settlement of Durant hardly look a sorry state and a lively fiddler’s tune spills from the pavilion at the center of the town, drowning the usual poor man’s laughter in quaint majesty.

It paints the perfect backdrop for a dance.

Any concern for the distant thunder that rumbles across the Nebraska plains is lost to the billowing laughter of wealthy investors and the droll of politics. By the time Bonnie Mae even notices that Frederik van der Meulen is absent from the celebration, the sky is dark.

 

 _This_ certainly isn’t the typical business practice that Doctor Van der Meulen prides himself in, but he does derive a certain pleasure from the sight of Thor Gundersen in binds.

Under normal circumstances he would never condone lynch mob justice, but under normal circumstances an extortionist would not target practitioners on the same payroll. Having served as a Union field doctor during the war, Frederik did not come to Hell on Wheels to seek his fortune in medicine. He came to do his job—and do it well—so that some of these men might make it home, and yet he found himself mixed up in _this_.

“Hey!” The towering menace of a man hollers above the squabble of blood-thirsty shopkeepers. In spite of his size, his struggle only serves to further entangle him in the rope. “Hey, get your bloody hands off me! Son of a—”

— _rip_.

The doctor, standing a safe distance from the scuffle, watches on as the merchants tear away the fabric of Thor’s clothing in preparation for the main course.

Frederik is unbuttoning his cuffs, as cool as you please, when the first pail of searing-hot tar is thrown unceremoniously through the crowd. The thick black paste brands Thor’s pasty white skin a brilliant shade of pink and the poor fellow, he howls like a wild animal caught in a trap.

It’s a pity, to be sure.

Thomas Durant’s party is so loud that not even a gunshot would be heard across camp tonight.

 

As the night wears on, so does Bonnie Mae’s patience.

At first she maintains her facade in an effort to distract her wandering mind. She dances with men of every shape and size as they call upon her company, but she soon finds herself running out of steam. Fearing a rude presentation to the gentleman whose hand she holds, she retires from the celebration early in order to wait on Doctor Van der Meulen.

The more she allows her mind to wander, however, the less she finds of him until she’s truly lost herself to her thoughts.

“Miss Bonnie Mae?”

When she turns in a fright, she’s surprised to find Mickey McGinnes. With his clothing rumpled and his cheeks flush, he offers her his staple boyish grin. It’s no secret that he’s come tonight to ask her to dance - and as much as she wishes to accept that invitation, she wears her worry like a ball and chain.

“Something’s the matter—”

“Nah,” Bonnie Mae offers with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Just waitin’ on a stubborn fella’s all.”

Mickey’s enthusiasm fades like a spent candle’s flickering flame and, though his hurt’s written all over his face, he accepts her subtle rejection with grace. “I hope you find ‘im soon, lass.”

“As do I.”

 

Their little scheme doesn’t end without casualties.

Half a dozen or so boys and men from the local businesses come out of Thor Gundersen’s struggle bloody and bruised. Frederik hoists another such dim-witted fellow up out of the muck, this one with his nose crushed flat against his ugly face.

“Kicked like a mule, he did,” the man remarks proudly and he grins a toothless grin.

_Charming._

Frederik abandons the man to round up the others, but only once he’s herded them half-way to the infirmary does he catch a trace of music on the air. That’s when he remembers, with an astonishing sense of urgency, that he’ll be at work until sunrise or better patching up this sorry lot.

He won’t have a chance to dance with Miss Bonnie Mae MacLeod.

Bonnie Mae’s proven herself a perceptive little bird during her short time in his employ and he knows she won’t let his absence go without a thorough interrogation if he fails to smooth things over tonight.

“Go on ahead and make yourselves comfortable, fellas,” he instructs. “I’ll be right in behind you.”

The doctor finds himself at the darkened magic lantern tent, vaguely aware that Bonnie Mae’s affectionate towards the McGinnes brothers—though he can’t fathom why—and he calls out to the first one he finds. “Mr. McGinnes?”

Sean spooks like he’s just seen a ghost, but he offers the doctor a half-smile. “Satisfyin’ evenin’, wasn’t it, sir?”

“Indeed,” Doctor Van der Meulen agrees. “But if you’re headin’ to that dance tonight, I’m afraid I gotta ask a favour in return for it, son.”

“Anythin’,” Sean agrees.

“I know that little Miss Bonnie Mae’s a-waitin’ on me,” he explains. “Takin’ care of these fellas, I’m not so sure’s I’ll be able to make it and I don’t need her askin’ after me all night. She don’t need to know what we’ve been up to here, so be a good lad and ease her mind for me, would you?”

 

The night is almost over.

Many of the wealthier guests have retired back to their train cars for the night and with them went the remainder of the good liquor. Even the fiddler’s tune has taken a somber turn. But every time Bonnie Mae entertains the idea of accepting Mickey’s invitation, she thinks she catches a glimpse of Doctor Van der Meulen among the crowd.

Just as she’s settling back into the comfortable solitude that follows another false alarm, Sean McGinnes calls out her name.

He’s short of breath when he comes upon her, his face flush and his eyes full of worry.

“There’s been a fight—” Bonnie Mae’s heart skips a beat. “—Doctor Van der Meulen’s taken a couple of boys to the sick tent an’ he’s not sure he’s gonna make it to the dance. Says he doesn’t want you waitin’ on him all night on account of this business.”

“Thank you for findin’ me,” she offers and, in her relief, she releases a bated breath. “Takes a great weight off these tired shoulders, hearin’ that.”

“I, uh…” But this time the worry that flickers through Sean’s blue eyes is a bashful sort and it entices a shy smile from young Bonnie Mae. “Well, I thought maybe you might share this dance with me. Before the night’s over an’ all, I—”

But he doesn’t have to explain.

With the weight of Doctor Van der Meulen’s absence lifted from her conscience, she feels light enough to float away and Bonnie Mae places her hand into his to keep herself grounded. “It’d be an honour, Mr. McGinnes.”


End file.
